


the final stone unturned

by lethargicProfessor



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Blight Cure (Dragon Age), Fluff, Gen, Post-Dragon Age: Origins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:07:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22025314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lethargicProfessor/pseuds/lethargicProfessor
Summary: King Alistair receives a midnight visit from an old friend, and some good news.
Relationships: Alistair & Tabris (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 3





	the final stone unturned

**Author's Note:**

> This work is not to be reproduced or reposted on any site or app other than Archive of Our Own, Tumblr, and WordPress (LPWrites/LethargicProfessor). This work is available for free on these sites, and is **not to be used or sold for profit by any third parties or apps.**

“Alistair. _Alistair_ , wake up!”

It’s strange. If Alistair didn’t know any better, he would say it was the Warden shaking his shoulder awake.

While it was routine once upon a time, he was king now, technically, and the Warden was….away. Searching. 

But no, the fingers on his arm are cold and fiendishly real as they pinch at the soft skin under his arm. “Alistair!”

Whatever swear had been building in Alistair’s throat dies as he sits up and stares blearily at the sight before him.

Tabris, hair in disarray, still in the blues and silvers of the Grey Wardens, is in his bedchamber, kneeling on his bed. Barkspawn chuffs softly, panting at his door. The moon is barely a sliver shining into his room, making everything seem ethereal, but the weight on his legs feels very real, sharp greaves digging into him even through the layers he’s tucked under.

“I…” Alistair draws the covers to his chest as nonchalantly as he can manage, squinting in the dim light. “This isn’t a dream, is it?”

Tabris’ answering pinch is more than enough proof, but still, there’s questions to be answered. Alistair sits up further and fumbles to light a candle at his bedside, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Um. Welcome back, I suppose. When did you arrive?”

“Twenty minutes ago.” Tabris drops onto his bed with a groan, already moving to rip off the greaves and braces and various bits of armor. “I snuck in, by the way. Don’t call the guards, it was hard enough to do this without Barkspawn waking everyone and their mother.”

“I really should inform them about possible weaknesses in their guard…patrols, I suppose.” Alistair points out, moving out of the way. It was routine a year ago, when they were still fighting off darkspawn, so it’s strange that it’s still so familiar. “Did you have to sneak in though? I feel like the Hero of Ferelden would be allowed in regardless of the time.”

“I missed you, as strange as that sounds.” Tabris smiles, and for the first time in a while, seems almost content, like a weight’s been lifted. 

“What brings you here? To my chambers? In the middle of the night?” Alistair prompts, reaching out to pat Barkspawn as he approaches to greet him.

“I figured it out!” A renewed sense of energy makes Tabris shoot up, kneeling on his bed again. “I know how to cure the taint!”

Alistair blinks, hand on Barkspawn’s large head. “I’m…sorry?”

“I cured Barkspawn all those years ago, remember? The sick mabari in the pens? I did it. I fixed it. In Ostagar.” Tabris nods, eyes wide with just a hint of madness.

Alistair hums softly in thought, trying to wrap his head around the strange midnight visit. His head’s still foggy and he’s not entirely sure this isn’t a delusion, despite the strangeness of it all. “Are you telling me,” he begins slowly. “That after all this time struggling, you removed the taint and _forgot_?”

“In my defense, it was a rough year.” Tabris adds hurriedly, grunting as the last piece of armor clinks to the floor. “You were also there and forgot, so it’s not all my fault.”

“You realize that could have saved us so much time, right? How long were we in the Korcari Wilds again? How much Elfroot did we pick? We could have taken care of the blight in a week.” 

“I remembered now, that has to count for something, right?” Tabris waves a hand in the air and shrugs, climbing towards the top of the bed. “Shove on over, it’s freezing out there.”

Alistair sighs, rolling his eyes but raising the covers regardless. “You realize this will be a scandal.”

“I’m sure you can handle it, your highness.” Tabris preens, hugging his side, all cold limbs and pointy elbows, and buries into his pillows. “That’s a problem for the morning, don’t you think?”

“You’re impossible, you know that?” Tabris doesn’t deign him with a response, and Alistair can’t offer more witticisms because Barkspawn jumps onto the bed and burrows into the blankets beside him.

It wasn’t how he had planned on spending the night, but he supposes he missed them too.


End file.
